Moonlight's Requiem
by boredwriter272
Summary: One day the summer before his fourth year, Harry goes on a walk that will change his life forever. Tragedy strikes, and then the mysterious Moonlight's Requiem rescues Harry. Can he trust them? And how will lycanthropy affect the Boy Who Lived?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I just love the dickens out of it.

This is my first shot at HP fanfic, so please please review. If you have any ideas for the story, I'd appreciate them. And don't worry, I'll be updating.

It was an appropriately dark and stormy night in Little Whinging. Of course, this didn't stop Harry Potter from being outside the house on number four Privet Drive. When faced with a choice between unpleasant weather and dealing with the Dursleys, there was no contest. His relatives were simply much higher up on the patented Harry scale of unpleasantness.

The moon was high and full, shining with a rare luster. It was uncommonly early for it to be so prominent.

The summer had scarcely begun, and Harry was already experiencing intense boredom. Hogwarts might not always be pleasant, but at least it was interesting. Magic, his friends, plots to kill Harry/those he loved/destroy the world/raise a dark lord. Perhaps all the intrigue had ruined Harry when it came to appreciating the duller parts of summer. Here he was, kicking a perfectly good rock down a perfectly good road during a perfectly good thunderstorm, bored out of his perfectly good (except for that unsightly scar) head.

Last year at Hogwarts had been wonderful. He'd met some old friends of his father's, and saved one of said friends from a gruesome death. The bits involving the dementors had been rather unpleasant, but life's not all fun and games.

Separated from his own friends now, Harry felt continually enveloped in loneliness. The letters simply could not come fast enough. He knew that his friends really did have a lot to do. They had families. They weren't alone. The only person who seemed to share his state of mind was Sirius. Snuffles was on the run, and just as alone as Harry, really.  
>Harry was also writing to Lupin. Though Lupin and Sirius, he could try to get a sense of just who James Potter had been. He felt like he could see this foggy silhouette of his Dad. It grew more detailed, almost colorful enough for him to see something <em>more<em>, with every letter he received from his Dad's two remaining faithful best friends.

His mother was more of a mystery. All he knew her by were the less detailed anecdotes of the marauders, what Dumbledore had told him, those nights spent in front of the Mirror of Erised, and that one Dementor influenced memory.

Shaking himself from his reverie, Harry looked around. This road seemed… new? That was rare enough. Harry had lived in Little Whinging long enough to know most of the roads by heart. This one was different. The feeling was different too, off somehow. Maybe even a little dangerous. Worse yet, Harry wasn't sure he knew how to get back to number four Privet drive.

Harry kept walking, past the ancient, massive trees. He'd find a house, ask for directions. Then he'd make it home before the Dursleys had a chance to miss _fat chance_ him. Unconsciously, his hand found the pocket of his sweatshirt, and his hand closed around his wand. _If I could just use a point me spell._ But that was forbidden outside of Hogwarts. Quickly, he pulled his hand away.

His steps grew faster. Still no houses in sight. Harry heard a rustling. Without looking back, he ran flat out. Something was wrong. Something was very very wrong, he knew it. He was breathing heavily now. His Harry-senses were tingling like they were going out of business.

Now he could hear _something_ behind him. Running, faster, or nearly as fast, as Harry. As he rounded a corner, Harry whipped his head around. Tailing him was one of the most ugly creatures he had ever seen. It was some sort of mammal, that much he could tell. It was emaciated but large, coarsely as well as copiously haired, and highly ferocious. _That's got to be out of the wizarding world. Bloody hell. That's a Werewolf. Is it Lupin? Why would it be Lupin? Okay, let's assume that it's not a friend of mine. _

And from what Harry had seen of it, it was gaining on him. _Now would be a really good time not to die. All right, lets start with not getting bitten. _For once he was glad of the lessons years of Harry hunting had taught him. Without them, he'd be dead by now.

Harry grabbed his wand. He put on a last burst of speed, and then ran to the side of the street. _Damn damn damn. What works on Werewolves? I highly doubt I have Wolf's Bane on my person. Snape taught us this in Defense Against the Dark Arts, which must be why I remember absolutely nothing!_

"Patrificus Totalus!"

And the creature continued to speed towards him, unimpeded.

"Impedimentia!"

"Stupefy!"

None of it did any damage. And then the creature was upon him. It bit a chunk out of Harry's leg, and the blood started to gush. _There goes that plan. _Things around him seemed to dim. Weakly, Harry tried to shove the hulking mass away from him. The wolf howled, and Harry passed out.

"Potter?" the voice said, softly. Harry's eyes sprung open. He was on a cot in a small, dimly lit room. His leg was swathed in bandages. He could barely feel it. Standing over him was a bald, short man in flowing black robes.

"Who are you and how do you know my name?" asked Harry.

"If you're looking to hide who you are, bearing a scar like that one's not doing you any favors," answered the man in the same quiet tone. "I'm Taryn Drant, Werewolf specialist and certified healer."

"Where am I?" asked Harry.

"Somewhere safe. More I cannot say. This place is protected by certain charms. It would be unwise to compromise our location. "

"Like hell I'm safe. I just got attacked by a bloody Werewolf!" retorted Harry, his voice hoarse. The man walked across the room and grabbed a glass of some sort of liquid.

"The attack you speak of took place three days ago. Harry, you _are _a "bloody werewolf" You've been recovering. We brought you here. We have some of the best facilities for dealing with the newly bitten in magical England. " Harry looked around the dark, bare room. Somehow he doubted what this little man was saying.

"Where did that thing come from?" asked Harry.

"Well, we found you in the magical community of Vaneluar. Not a bad place to be in magical Britain. But today, there just so happened to be a Werewolf on the loose there. We try to keep tabs on all actively biting Werewolves, try to track them down, but it looks like this one got to you before we could take him down. I'm sorry. You've still got a good chance of avoiding lycanthropy altogether, but we think it's best to hold onto you for observation at this time. "

"And who exactly is "we"?"

"Moonlight's Requiem. We're a group, mostly Werewolves, trying to stop other werewolves from spreading the disease and causing harm. You might call us a pack, if you were so inclined. Kallen's our leader. As soon as he gets back you can meet him. You should be done healing by then. He's a good man, one of the best, really. "

"And I'm here and not in St. Mungo's because?"

"Because St. Mungo's doesn't give a rat's ass about a Werewolf, even if he's the boy who lived. Enough with the questions. You need some rest. If you can, please go back to sleep." The man's eyes became cold, sad even. He shook it off and walked out, closing the door. Harry was left with an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion, and soon succumbed to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Do you think I own this?

Please, review. I love constructive criticism.

Harry didn't know when he had woken up. All he was aware of now was the awful, mind numbing tedium of the off-white ceiling above him. He would have moved if not for the agony in his leg. His hands reached behind his head to the backboard of his bed. Struggling, Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position. _Damn._ His legs protested the movement. _This was worse than that bloody scar!_ A wordless cry of pain escaped his mouth.

_Madam Pomfrey would have had this gone in a minute. Why couldn't this have happened at Hogwarts? If this is the best werewolf bite treatment facility in Britain, I'll eat my own foot!_

Just then, the door opened, and Taryn walked in. Behind him was another man, tall and purposeful. His hair was long and black, grown out a little past his shoulders. The man's dark blue eyes were… powerful, somehow. Taryn cleared his throat to speak, and it seemed to Harry that Drant had become more focused in the presence of the tall man.

"This is my brother, Harthcourt Drant. He's just come back from seclusion. Midnight's Requiem can't afford more than a small stash of Wolfsbane potion, for emergency purposes. We have to lock our Wolves up when the moon comes out. That's why you haven't seen anyone but me yet. Most of the others are still resting, but Harth wanted to meet the Boy Who Lived." Harry nodded. Right now, all he could do was smile and nod. Later, he could check the facts, get out of this room, and try and get himself back to Hogwarts. Now was a time for sitting back, absorbing the _information_, true or not, that these people gave him. Harth flashed him a wide, sympathetic smile. He stepped forward gingerly, seemingly a little shaken up from his recent transformation.

"Hello, Harry Potter. I'm sorry that bastard got you. He's been loose for years. The man's a monster, maybe worse than the wolf inside him. He goes looking for populated areas when the full moon gets close. He's our biggest failure. We've gone after him so many times, and he always evades us. That bastard positions himself where he can do the most damage. He's the one who got me. " Harth gave off much more of an _open _feeling than Taryn had. Taryn himself seemed sharper in his presence. "I guess maybe that makes us brothers, huh?" here Harth's confidence broke. He looked down and then back up, right into Harry's eyes. "I mean, if you think so." Taryn shot Harth a questioning, sideways look.

"The kid just got here. Save your family speeches for if he stays, all right? He's bound to be overwhelmed right now," the healer said. Taryn seemed almost fond of Harry. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to have a look at that wound again." He walked over to Harry's bedside. "Would you leave, Harth?" he requested, apologetically. Harth gave a slight nod and left the room. "I'm going to have to unwrap your bandages, alright?" Taryn asked. Without waiting for an answer, he began gingerly unfurling the soiled linen. Harry struggled to keep from crying out. Even Taryn's light touch hurt terribly. Underneath all the wrappings, Harry's leg was solidly purple. Taryn winced.

From within the recesses of his robes, Taryn produced a small bottle. He shook it liberally over the large wound, and the liquid sizzled on contact. A few seconds later, Harry whimpered. "You. Could. Have. Warned. Me.," he said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, I could have. But then the pain would have been much, much worse, " answered Taryn. "You should be able to walk by tomorrow, with that. Sorry it took so long to get it to you, I had to brew it fresh,"

"Taryn, I – can I write to someone? More than one someone? There are people who need to know where I am, people I want to talk to." Harry waited anxiously. If he could just talk to someone, tell Dumbledore where he was, what had happened, he'd feel so much better.

"Why would we stop you?" asked the healer, with a wide smile. "You can borrow my owl, if you want." The moment the words reached his ears, Harry began to panic. _Hedwig! Hedwig's been alone for days, stuck in her cage! _

"Actually, I have an owl. And she's been stuck in her cage since I left my aunt and uncle's house. Is there something you can do? Can you get to Little Whinging from here? I have to go now." Harry tried to move, and made it as far as placing his foot on the ground before the agony became too much for him. Suddenly Taryn was there, lifting him back onto the bed.

"Let me guess, gorgeous female snowy owl? She's here. I found her outside, actually. She kept flying at the door. Wouldn't stop till I let her in. I've been feeding her, don't worry. I'll bring her to you. She's very sweet, gets along nicely with Decarte – that's my owl." Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. _How did she get out? Maybe she screeched until the Dursleys couldn't take it anymore. _"I can bring you some parchment too, and a quill. Who are you planning to write to?" asked Taryn. "I though you were an orphan," he added.

"Dumbledore needs to hear from me. And being an orphan doesn't mean I don't have friends." Harry answered back.

"Friends you trust to still care, despite your – condition?" Harry nodded. If his friends still stuck with him despite the whole _danger and doom follow me_ thing, they'd have no issue with his Lycanthropy. No one who really mattered cared about Lupin's furry little problem, so why should it matter with him?

Within the next half hour, Taryn brought Hedwig, in a shiny new cage, into Harry's room. He brought the parchment with him as well.

"Here you go. I'll try to be back in an hour or so, so I can mail whatever you have for you. Please don't try to get up again." With that, he placed Hedwig and the writing materials by Harry's bed. As soon as Taryn left, Harry unlocked the cage, and picked up the paper and quill.

"It's good to see you, girl," he said to Hedwig, ruffling her feathers. She hooted happily in response, and nibbled his ear affectionately. Harry thought for a moment, and then set his pen to the parchment.

_Dear Dumbledore, _

_ Please, don't worry about me right now. I know I just mysteriously disappeared, but it's really not my fault. I was out walking, and I got chased and bitten by a Werewolf. From what I've been told, I'm one now too._

_I'm not sure where I am, but the people are all right. I don't think they mean badly. As far as I can tell, I'm safe, and there just keeping me here until I heal. It's some sort of secret Werewolf anti-biting association. They've been good to me. I should be ready to see you again soon, I think. My guess is that it would be a bad idea for me to go back to the Dursley's. _

_I'll be in contact with you._

_Sincerely, _

_Harry Potter_

Harry looked over his work. _Was there anything else to say? _Nothing for now. He was overcome by an exhaustion he had been ignoring while writing the letter. This pain was really taking it out of him. He shimmied forward in bed, and closed his eyes.


End file.
